Random Poetry from a Troubled Heart

    What follows is a small collection of poems that I've written. The first two are unique to this post, the next three are recent, and the last three I wrote a few years ago.

It's funny, isn't it? We swear off of what hurts us most, and find ourselves irresistibly drawn back to it. A never-ending cycle of torture and bliss it truly is.

    Really, though – why aren't programmers stereotyped as sensitive poets? If women would take the time to see past their nerdiness, they'd fall in love with them. Well, maybe not… As shallow as men can be, women love muscular men. Programmers usually aren't. But they're still men; living, breathing, loving men.

    Or maybe it's just me…?

Hating to Love

We savor that which comes our way,
Enjoying every sunny day.
It brightens the approaching gloom,
Which spawns from our impending doom.


Why do we love to love?
And yet we love to hate.
I hide you – oh, so like a dove –
From cruel and twisted fate.

For a friend

The sun dances above the trees,

The birds fluttering in the breeze.

My mind wanders; I think of you,

The one who holds my love so true.

  

Why am I afraid to lose you

When you're not even mine?

And how am I not yours, my love?

My heart resides with thine.

If you could read me like a book,

You'd instantly know that I look

Unlike I feel; I hide away.

Behind my smile, no sunny day

Has reached. And yet I sit and cry

While day and gloomy day goes by,

Wond'ring what life would've been

If what I know now I'd known then.

Love Past

O my sweet love, where hast thou gone?

Whatever did I do?

Thy lovely face I dream of now,

But gone to where are you?

I could have told you then, I know.

My love for you was true.

And all the many years it's been,

I could have spent with you.

Though you don't know if I loved you,

Nor I if you loved me,

I'll give to you my love so true,

For all eternity.